


Home is where you are

by sirona



Category: Naruto
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-09
Updated: 2011-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:25:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirona/pseuds/sirona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small vignette from the Advantage: Us verse. A Christmas drabble request; prompt was cold hands, warm mouths, damp hair.</p><p> </p><p>Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto. The Advantage: Us verse is mine, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is where you are

Naruto bursts through the front door, panting and splashing rain droplets everywhere -- it had just started drizzling in the last half-mile of his six-mile daily run.

Sasuke merely looks up from the mess of papers, textbooks and print-outs spread out on the kitchen table, thin glasses perched on his nose, attempting to slide off. He shouldn't be so ridiculously attractive, shouldn't make Naruto stupid with want, shouldn't make him long to trudge through the room in his muddy trainers and slide his cold hands under Sasuke's shirt, warm them against the lean, toned body of his rival; shouldn't want to bury his equally cold nose in Sasuke's long neck, just behind his right ear where even a breath of air would have him arching against Naruto's sweaty body in desperation.

"What." Sasuke says, flat and uninviting, the very antithesis to the look in his eyes when he flicks them up and down Naruto's wet shirt and wetter shorts, over his tanned legs splattered with dirt and rain and sweat.

Naruto scrunches his nose and smiles at him, bending over to untie his laces and toe off his shoes. He doesn't miss the way Sasuke's eyes slide down to his arse, outlined in explicit detail by the clinging fabric. Naruto allows himself a smirk of expectant smugness when he thinks about what Sasuke will say when he finds out that Naruto is still a little stretched from last night, and that he hadn't taken the time to wash the lube and spunk off himself before going for his early morning run. Nothing very coherent, he'd wager.

He pads closer to him now, crowds him at the table as he leans over his shoulder and casts a look at the miles and miles of statistics littering the tabletop. Sasuke is compiling some sort of database on all players currently in the cirquit, but Naruto can never remember what it's meant to achieve in the end. That's okay, though -- Sasuke hasn't tired of explaining it to him yet.

His damp hair rubs against Sasuke's cheek when he bends over closer and squints at one particularly colourful flow chart. Sasuke wrinkles his nose and leans away, but he spoils the effect when all that does is push him backwards into Naruto's chest. Sasuke doesn't move away, but he does remove Naruto's sweaty palm from where it's wrinkling up some important-looking articles. Naruto turns his wrist in his hand and strokes his knuckles with the back of his fingers fondly, brushing a kiss behind his ear.

Sasuke does sigh then, flicks his glasses off and turns in his chair to shake his head at his boyfriend in exasperation. Naruto grins and slides sideways onto his lap, draping toned arms over Sasuke's shoulders and leaning forward to press their warm mouths together sweetly, gently -- at least for the next ten seconds.

There's not a lot that's gentle after that, and that's just the way Naruto likes it.

They might need to buy a new chair.

And a new table, come to think of it.

It's worth it to feel Sasuke stretching him, forcing himself deeper inside, hawling Naruto's legs up to lock behind his back, sliging hot palms over Naruto's arms, curling Naruto's hands around the edge of the table, and squeezing at them to keep them there when his hands slide back down over the naked expanse of muscle, to grip his squirming hips and make him see stars.

It's worth it to start every single day in a similar fashion, with the same person, for the rest of their lives.


End file.
